We've Been Here
by actingwithportals
Summary: They lost the strike, but they didn't lose their fighting spirits. They won't stop until the world knows that they've been here.
1. Chapter 1

It wasn't supposed to be like this. We were supposed to get a happy ending. Instead, we got our asses handed to us, as just another reminder that this world is cruel and ugly. I thought that maybe, just maybe, if we believed enough, if we tried hard enough, if we had enough faith and man power we could move mountains. Guess I was wrong.

It all happened like a dream, a terrible dream that you can't wake up from. The strike had been a failure. For the second time cops showed up and soaked us real good. No amount of papers we printed would make a difference. No number of children in the square changed their minds. We were nothing more than a nuisance that needed to be quieted, stomped into the ground until there was nothing left. And now here we are, broken battered, beaten.

I don't know what happened to the other guys. All I know is that things can't be good for them. I tried to help as many of the kids as I could in the chaos. I wasn't leaving anyone behind again, not after last time. But of course, this decision lead me to where I am now. Caught by a Spider and put back in his web. And this time, I don't think there's any escape for me.

I was practically dragged there, pushed and shoved until I couldn't stand no more. When we arrived, I was taken up to an empty room, and . . . I won't entertain you with that particular series of events. But when they were done with me, I was tossed aside into another, less empty room. There were beds all lining the walls, full to the brim with other kids, so many that some even had to lie on the floor for space. And don't even get me started on the smell. I could almost imagine something, or someone had died in this room, and the thought made me shudder.

"Stay put, Kelly," the older Delancey spat before slamming the door behind me. It wasn't like I had anywhere to go, anyways. We were on the third floor, and as far as I could tell, I wasn't gonna be making any jumps from here.

"Jack?" a quiet voice asked, coming from the back corner of the room. I looked behind me, trying to see who that familiar voice was, and was met with the eyes of my friend.

"Crutchie," I breathed, painfully pulling myself to my feet. My ribs felt like they had all been broken, though I'm sure it was nothing more than one or two cracked, and every step I took felt like a mile. But I made it to his bed, sitting down beside where he sat, feeling breathless.

"How's it going, kid?" I asked, putting an arm around his shoulders. I noticed that unlike every other bed in the room, Crutchie's was empty save for himself. Whether he was given his own bed out of kindness, or shunning, I didn't want to know, at least not now. I was just glad to see that my friend was at least in one piece, though I had to admit, he was looking a little worse for wear. I'm sure I was too.

"You-you'se ain't supposed to be here," he stammered, worry clouding his eyes. "You'se supposed to be with the others, winning the strike." His words became shakier, as if he were beginning to realize the reality of the situation before I even said a word.

I shook my head solemnly. "It didn't work, kid," I whispered. "We failed."

Crutchie shook his head in disbelief. "No," he breathed. "No that can't be true."

I smiled briefly, but the action didn't reach my eyes. "It's okay," I assured him. "We'll figure something out."

I just wanted to see that smile again, the one that he always wore. It wasn't right seeing him like this, dejected and without hope. Even if all had been lost, I couldn't bear to see Crutchie lose his hope, the one thing that set him apart from the rest of us. He always had so much of it.

"You promise?" he asked, his eyes searching mine for some consolation that everything would be okay.

I nodded. "Promise."

* * *

I shouldn't make promises. Not if I don't know if I can keep them. I had no reason to believe things would get better, just an empty hope that maybe, somehow, fate would smile on us.

But I was wrong.

They came for me again. In the middle of the night I was woken and dragged out of my bed. It was completely dark, but I could hear Crutchie beside me, pleading for them to stop. They didn't listen of course. I was taken back to that room, back to hell. They beat me, not because they got anything out of it, but just because they could. Because I had given them trouble in the past and it was satisfying for them to show some dominance over me. When they were mercifully done, I was brought back to the room with all the kids and thrown to the floor, the door creaking shut behind me, locking into place. I told Crutchie not to worry about me, that I would be okay.

I don't think he believed me. I don't think I believed me, either.

That morning we were woken early by Snyder, banging on the door and shouting for us to get out of bed. It hurt too much to move, but I had to anyways. I couldn't let anyone think I was weak, least of all Crutchie.

We all stood in single file around our beds. Snyder inspected us just as he would do every morning, making sure none of us were hiding anything, or maybe just to see if we could even stand. My legs felt wobbly, but I could manage it without too much trouble. I looked to my right to see Crutchie, who held his own pretty well, all things considered. He still leaned more heavily on his crutch than was normal, but I was just glad to see him standing at all. When I had visited him all those nights before, he couldn't even make it to the window. At least he had recovered somewhat since then.

When we were finished being inspected by Snyder we were allowed to go downstairs. Not for breakfast or anything, no. There were chores that needed to be done, and Snyder and his goons sure as hell weren't gonna be the ones to do them.

I knew the drill well. Just keep your head down and do as you're told and everything would be peachy. Except that wasn't always an option. There were too many kids in this place, little kids who couldn't do the heavy lifting or didn't have the stamina for the constant work. Sometimes kids would collapse where they stood, right in the middle of scrubbing the walls or cleaning a baseboard. And then one of Snyder's men would come, whip in hand. I couldn't do nothing, I couldn't stand by and just watch kids get beat. It wasn't right.

So, I did something about it. I stood up to the jerks, made sure they didn't beat this poor kid senseless. Instead I just got a beating of my own and a new black eye to match the other bruises on my face. But it was alright. The kid didn't get hurt, and that's all that mattered.

It wasn't until close to dinner when we were allowed food. And by we, I mean everyone except me. I was still 'being punished for my actions' and didn't get what they were offering. Not that I wanted moldy bread anyways.

"Here," Crutchie whispered, breaking off a piece of his bread and holding it out for me as discretely as he could.

I shook my head. "You're just gonna get yourself in trouble," I warned him, pushing the bread back towards him and eyeing the guard that stood only a few feet away, eyes watching the other kids like a hawk.

"I don't care, you need to eat," Crutchie insisted, pushing the bread back towards me. "I'se got plenty for myself."

"What's going on over there?" a voice suddenly shouted.

Crutchie immediately did his best to stuff the piece of bread back into the rest of his slice, but not before we were approached by the guard in question.

"Sharing, are we?" he asked, glaring down at the two of us, hand twitching to the whip at his side.

"N-no, I was just—" Crutchie stammered before being cut off by the guard suddenly grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him forward, lifting Crutchie to his feet so that he dangled a few inches off the ground.

"Your friend ain't someone to be sharing with," the guard spat.

"But he's gotta eat too," Crutchie began to argue before receiving a sudden slap to the face.

"Are you talking back to me?" the guard asked, nostrils flaring.

"It was my fault, alright," I quickly stepped in, getting to my feet. "I told him to give me a piece. It wasn't his idea."

The guard looked between me and Crutchie, before decisively dropping Crutchie to the floor. The kid landed with an "oof" and no doubt it hurt. The guard turned his attention towards me, grabbing me by the collar and tugging me away from the rest of the kids. It was time for more punishments, I presumed.

The punishments never seemed to end.

* * *

For a third time, I was thrown back into that overcrowded room, landing hard on my side. I could feel a dozen eyes fixed on me, who knows what rumors floating in the air.

"Jack, you're back!" Crutchie said excitedly, hobbling over to where I lay on the ground, holding out a hand to help me up. I graciously took it, standing with a little difficulty, but managing the task all the same.

"We gotta get out of here," Crutchie muttered, helping to lead me back to our bed. "If they keep this up you won't be able to stand much longer."

"I'm fine," I assured him, a painful hiss blowing through my teeth as I sat down on the bed.

"Just look at yourself, you ain't fine," Crutchie argued, sitting down next to me. "You look like hell, and that's just me being nice about it."

I started to argue, but was interrupted by another voice from across the room. "You ain't gonna make it two feet if you try to escape," a kid with dark eyes and a scowl on his face snapped at us. "All you'se gonna do is get the rest of us in trouble."

"Hey, maybe this ain't none of your business," I shot back, immediately not liking the kid.

He got up from the bed where he sat, sauntering over to Crutchie and I. "With the way those guys have their eyes on you, and your crippled friend here, you'd be lucky to make it out of that door," he sneered, pointing to the bedroom door on our left.

"Maybe we ain't taking the door," I challenged, ready to stand to my feet. I hated being looked down on, especially by kids who weren't even near my age.

"Right, you'll take the window three stories down," the kid responded, almost laughing. "Have fun jumping. Death is one way to get out of this place, I suppose."

"Hey, he's made it out before and he can do it again," Crutchie put in, folding his arms indignantly.

"Oh really?" the kid asked. "And just how did he manage that?"

"He's Jack Kelly," Crutchie said proudly. "And if you ain't heard of him, you ain't been around long enough."

The kid's eyes widened for the briefest of moments before returning to their normal size. "Oh, so you're that kid, huh?" he remarked. "If you're so great, then why'se you end up back in this place?"

I didn't answer, I couldn't. Not in front of all these kids, not in front of Crutchie. I hadn't gone into details the night before, but I couldn't let him know how badly we failed, how hopeless it all was. No, I kept my mouth shut, glaring up at the boy in front of me. That was the only answer he would get.

The kid smirked. "Yeah, that's what I thought," he said, before returning to his own bed, holding his head as proudly as you could in a place like this. Crutchie looked at me, his eyes gone solemn. He didn't push for any answers, he just sat there quietly, probably feeling some sense of betrayal at my lack of action. I'm sorry, Crutchie, but I just don't know what to do. Not anymore.

We didn't sleep too easily that night. I kept tossing and turning and every time I looked over I saw Crutchie just lying there, eyes open and staring at the bottom of the bunk above us. I hate to say it, but I think this place was starting to break his spirit, and I was certainly not helping the situation.

We had lost. Bad. Who knows what happened to the other newsboys. Who knows where any of them are now. Davey, Les, Race, Specs, Romeo, Spot and his group, all of them. There was no chance any of them kept their jobs, at least not selling for the World, and probably nowhere else would take them after this mess. And it was all my fault.

I had to get out of here. I had to make this right. No way was I gonna sit around and just let them win like this. The newsboys deserved better. Davey and Les deserved better. Crutchie deserved better. Every kid in this stinking city deserved better.

It was time I stopped moping around and did something about it.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day was hell, but it wasn't hell for me. We were woken in the early morning as usual, jolted awake by shouts and banging on our door. Everyone lined up for inspection, all eyes trailed to the floor, as no one wanted to have to meet eyes with the Spider. Sure, a couple brave kids tried, but none of them could hold his gaze longer than a second. However, when he got to me, I stared him straight back in the eyes. I wasn't gonna let this guy intimidate me. Not ever again.

He was clearly displeased by my action, but mercifully didn't react. Instead he just kept walking, just kept inspecting and judging. Probably silently ridiculing every single one of us, and for what only God knows. It didn't matter. He could think whatever foul thoughts towards us he wanted. It wouldn't make a difference either way.

It was time for chores again, and why we needed to do the same things every day was beyond me. This place was falling apart, yet here we were dusting every square inch of it, save for the actual quarters where we slept, which remained a stinking, filthy mess. Sooner or later the walls were gonna start crumbling from being scrubbed so much. But work was better than the alternative. They could be beating us all senseless for entertainment, so at least the work kept everyone busy.

But it didn't stop the beatings from happening altogether. A kid puts one toe out of line and they end up getting soaked till dusk. And with the amount of kids in this place there were at least three of 'em getting beat each day. And that's just me being optimistic with the numbers.

Snyder had a lot of men under his rule. His goons were supposed to be here to help shape us into upstanding citizens, but instead they were put to work enforcing Snyder's unlawful regimen. Rarely did Snyder ever get his hands dirty himself, rather making one of his subordinates do the work for him. I don't know how he got so lucky as to get a handful of people who seemed to love beating up on kids, or maybe that's how all adults really were. Whatever the case, his goons seemed to love their job, and took any chance they got to whip us into shape.

This place was hell.

That day I had been spared a beating. I hoped against everything that they had finally gotten bored with me over the past two days. But I'd get my ass kicked again and again if it meant what actually took place that day didn't happen.

I didn't see it go down, I was downstairs washing dishes. But the news got to me. A kid had been asked to bring up lunch to Snyder in his office. Apparently, the kid messed up somehow and the end result was a plateful of food all over Snyder's fine new suit. Word has it the kid couldn't hold the tray of food steady cause he was maneuvering with one arm.

The other arm was too occupied holding onto a crutch.

When I heard the news I almost ran to the scene. It took a few kids to hold me back, some of the guys had heard I helped that little kid out the day before and apparently didn't want me getting into more trouble than I already was. I should have thanked them, but in the moment, I didn't.

I didn't see Crutchie again until that night when we were all made to go back to our rooms. He was lying on our bed, curled up as best as he could and at first, I thought he was asleep, until he turned when I approached, smiling up at me in that usual way that he did.

"Hiya Jack," he said, all smiles and optimism, but it didn't meet his eyes. They were cloudy and red, as was the rest of his face. I didn't point that out, though. I didn't think he'd appreciate my acknowledging it.

"Hey kid," I said, sitting down next to him and trying to keep my voice steady. "How badly did they soak you?"

Crutchie tried to shrug, but it looked like the movement was painful. "Oh, you know, just the usual for this place," he responded, sounding nonchalant about it. He was stronger than I often gave him credit for. "But don't worry about me, Jack. Ain't nothing I can't handle."

"Sure, it ain't," I agreed, trying to sound assuring. "But that don't make it right. Nothing about this place is right."

"Not much we can do about that," Crutchie said quietly, the smile on his face faltering.

"Yeah, well, we'll see about that," I told him, sounding more confident than I felt. "Things may be looking down, but you and I are gonna get out of here. And when we do we'll make sure this place gets shut down. How does that sound?"

Crutchie sat up, straining from the movement. "What are you talking about, Jack?" he asked. "How are we supposed to manage something like that?"

I shrugged. "I don't know, but I'll think of something. We can't let things continue like this. It ain't fair to us and it ain't fair to anyone else in this city. And I ain't gonna rest until something gets done about it."

"What about the strike?" Crutchie asked. "You said we failed the strike, so what're we supposed to do now?"

"I don't know, kid," I admitted. "But we'll figure that out as soon as we escape, alright? It's all gonna work out in the end."

"You two still talking about trying to escape?"

It was that kid again from the night before. He was standing in front of our bed, arms crossed and eyes glaring down at the pair of us. I stood up, glad to see that I was a few inches taller than the kid, and he was much less intimidating from this angle.

"So what if we are, you gotta problem with that?" I asked, giving the kid a dirty look.

"I told you, if you try anything you'se just gonna get the rest of us in trouble," the kid argued. "We ain't paying the price for your stupidity."

"If you stay out of my way Snyder won't have a reason to target you," I pointed out. "So, how's about minding your own damn business, alright kid?"

"How's about not calling me kid?" the kid shot back, taking a threatening step towards me.

"Sorry, let me rephrase 'loud-mouth'," I snapped, feeling ready to give this kid a pounding if he took another step closer.

"Guys, calm down," Crutchie said, pulling himself to his feet and trying to get between us. "It ain't gonna do nobody any good if we fight with each other."

"Stay out of this, crip," the kid snarled, shoving Crutchie back, nearly causing him to lose his footing.

That was the last straw for me. I didn't hesitate before punching the kid square in the jaw. The rest of the kids erupted in hoots and jeers, ready to see a fight. If a fight's what they wanted I'd be more than happy to give it. I was angry, and this kid was a perfect candidate to take my anger out on.

He threw himself at me, pushing me back against the side of the bed and trying to smack my head against the steel. I shoved him off of me, knocking him to the ground and holding out my fists, ready for the next attack.

It didn't come. Instead, Crutchie got between the two of us again, holding up his free hand in some form of surrender. "Alright, stop!" he begged, looking between the pair of us. The kid got off the floor and for one terrifying moment I thought he was gonna go after Crutchie, but instead he just held his ground, fists balled up and ready to fight on the chance that I took another swing at him.

"We can't be fighting each other," Crutchie continued, giving both of us a hard look. "Turning against each other is exactly what Snyder wants. We have to stick together. If we keep beating up on each other, are we really better than Snyder?"

Crutchie's words struck me. He was right. Here I was, ready to pound some kid's face in on account of what? I was angry with him? That's exactly what Snyder and his goons did to us. If we started fighting each other, we were no better than the adults that put us here.

"You're right," I said, relaxing slightly and lowering my fists. "We ain't gonna make things better by fighting each other."

The kid didn't drop his position, staring hard at me as if he expected me to turn on him at any moment. Now that I thought about it, the kid was probably more scared than angry. He just acted out of self-preservation, and who was I to say that it was wrong?

"Look, I'm sorry," I apologized, holding out my hand to the kid. "Truce?"

The kid looked down at my hand, then back up at me, the gears clearly turning in his head. But he didn't get a chance to answer before the door of our room was thrown open, causing all the kids who had gotten up to watch the fight scurry back to their beds. All except for us three, that is.

"What the hell is going on in here?" Snyder barked, his eyes falling on us. "Kelly, I should have known you'd be causing trouble."

"It ain't him sir," Crutchie said quickly. "It was all just a misunderstanding. There ain't no trouble—"

"Quiet," Snyder seethed, making his way towards us and grabbing me by the collar, ready to drag me out of that room into whatever hell he had in store for me.

"Wait, please!" Crutchie begged, grabbing onto Snyder's arm and tugging at his sleeve. "It ain't what you think—"

"I said be quiet!" Snyder shouted, grabbing Crutchie by the shoulder and delivering a decisive kick to his bad leg, dropping him to the floor. The cry of pain he made was too much, and I could feel my blood boiling again. I wanted to hit Snyder, to break that stupid long nose of his, to shove it into his skull and make him feel every bit of pain he made us feel. But I just stood there, dumbfounded and shaking. I could feel the tension in the room, the fear in every kid's eyes as they trailed on the scene playing out before them.

I heard footsteps come into the room, the sign of more of Snyder's men ready to do the Spider's bidding. We were dragged out, Crutchie and I both. Taken to separate rooms, locked away from the safety of others. I don't remember most of what happened after that door closed. I don't think I want to. All I remember was that it was a long night, and when I was returned to the room Crutchie was still gone.

He didn't return for the rest of the night.

* * *

I didn't see my friend again until the next evening. He was finally brought back to the room, thrown unkindly to the floor. I was immediately by his side, ready to help in any way I could.

"They'll pay for this," I muttered as I helped Crutchie back to his feet.

"It ain't nothing," Crutchie tried to assure me, though I could easily see the smile that usually decorated his face had fallen, a look of solemn resignation taking its place.

"The hell it ain't," I shot back. "This can't go on forever. One of these days they'se gonna pay for what they've done. And who's to say that day can't come soon?"

"Talking like that ain't gonna help nobody," Crutchie told me, wincing as I helped him to sit down on our bed.

"Yeah, well actions might," I retorted, sitting down beside him. "I'm telling ya, once we get out of this place we're gonna find a way to bring it down. Then no one will have to suffer here again."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

I looked up, seeing the kid from before staring at me, his face not scowling like usual, but almost more curious.

"I, I don't know yet," I admitted. "But I'm sure there's some way. There's gotta be."

The kid didn't reply, he just kept staring, that weird expression still on his face.

"What's your name, anyways, kid?" I asked.

"Jones," was his simple answer, not even hesitating for a moment.

"Jones," I echoed. "Well, I guess it's nice to finally be properly introduced."

"You said you two were gonna break out," another kid with curly blond hair piped up, sitting on the bunk above Jones. "But the two of you can barely walk. How's ya gonna manage that?"

"I've broken out of here once, I can do it again," I told him, sounding more confident than I felt.

"That was just dumb luck," Jones put in. "And you were alone. If you plan to escape with your crippled friend here you'se gonna need an actual plan."

I started to argue, but was interrupted. "Jack, maybe you should think about escaping on your own," Crutchie said quietly. "You need to see how the others are doing and finish the strike. I'd just slow you down."

"The strike failed," I reminded him. "Ain't no way to pick it up again, at least not like how it was before. And there's no way in hell I'm leaving you behind here, not again."

"Then what're ya gonna do?" Jones asked, pessimism clearly streaking his face.

"Well it's like you said, I need a plan," I responded.

"And? Do you have one?" another kid asked, the rest of them now listening intently to our conversation.

I smiled, already a dozen thoughts floating around in my head. "I do."


	3. Chapter 3

"You don't have a plan?!"

"Shhh!" I tried to quiet him, putting my finger to my lips and looking around the room to make sure no one overheard us. We were supposed to be cleaning the foyer, but we took this time of privacy to discuss our plans, which I did have one, by the way.

"Jack, we need an actual plan," Crutchie hissed, looking over his shoulder nervously.

"I told you I have one," I assured him. "It just involves a bit of improvisation."

"Your plan is to break out in the middle of the night while everyone else is asleep, but you have no idea how to execute it?" Crutchie asked, incredulous.

"That ain't true," I argued. "I know we'se gotta steal a key to get out of the room, since climbing out the window ain't gonna happen. I just don't have the how part figured out yet."

Crutchie started to argue but I interrupted him. "Oh, don't give me that look, you know I was never the brains of anything. All those great ideas for the strike came from Davey, remember?"

"Maybe you ain't the best at coming up with ideas," Crutchie agreed. "But you ain't stupid neither. You know we need something better than improvisation to get out of this."

"I know, I know," I agreed. "But right now, it's all we got."

Crutchie sighed. "How do you expect to get your hands on a key?" he asked, his voice finally calmed down a bit.

I shrugged. "I guess I'll just have to get lucky."

Crutchie groaned, clearly displeased with my answer.

"You two idiots still tryn'a come up with a plan?"

The both of us whipped around to see the kid, Jones, approaching, arms crossed and that familiar scowl back on his face.

"Yeah, and what's it to you?" I asked, feeling defensive again. I didn't like the way he was glaring at us, and even with what Crutchie said before I still felt my hands itching to give the kid a smack to the face. But I had to ignore that, I had to be better than Snyder.

Jones stopped, still giving us a hard look. "Does he actually have a plan or is he just running his mouth?" he asked, his words directed this time at Crutchie.

Crutchie shrugged. "Says we'se gonna try and steal some keys," was his quiet answer.

Jones looked around the foyer, making sure the three of us were alone before speaking in a quieter voice. "And how do you plan to do that?"

"Look, I'll think of something," I shot back, trying to keep my voice low as well. "What do you care, anyways?"

"If it's how you say it is, you'se gonna get this place shut down, right?" he asked. "Well, considering I'm stuck in this hellhole, I'd like to see that happen. Can't happen if the pair of you don't escape."

I eyed him, suspicion clear on my face. "If that's so, you wouldn't happen to have any ideas, would ya?" I asked, my expression guarded.

Jones thought for a minute before responding. "Snyder's got a master key, yeah? Well, he'd also need a bunch of individual keys, you know in case of emergency or something. I bet you they'se in his office. If you can sneak in there and grab 'em, you'd probably have at least a day's time before he notices they'se missing."

Crutchie and I looked between ourselves, then back at Jones. "That's actually not a bad idea," Crutchie said, that familiar note of optimism returning to his voice.

"it ain't half a bad idea at all," I agreed. "But how do we get Snyder out of his office? No way's he gonna leave just for nothing."

Jones looked between the two of us, eyes eventually landing on Crutchie. "We create a diversion."

* * *

I hated this plan, every bit of it. I argued against it, but Crutchie insisted. He said he'd do whatever it takes to get out of this place, even putting himself in harm's way. I told him he was an idiot, and all he did was smile and agree.

I hated this plan.

I stood by the top of the stairwell, watching as Crutchie and Jones took their places at the foot of the stairs. Snyder's office was only a few doors down, and I had already walked by to quickly check and see if he were in there. Just as I'd thought, he was.

Jones looked up at me, nodding to show he was ready. I nodded in return, even though my stomach was in knots. I looked to Crutchie, who only gave me a reassuring grin. It was going to be okay. I had to believe that.

The plan began with a shove and a shout. "Get out of my way, damn crip!" Jones snapped, having lightly shoved Crutchie, not enough to hurt him, but enough to look real.

"Pick on someone your own size, shorty!" Crutchie shot back, shoving Jones with his free hand. It escalated into an all-out shouting match, insults being thrown back and forth between them. I watched as Jones threw a fake punch, and Crutchie responded as if he had been hit. It looked real, but I had to assure myself that it wasn't. One thing could be said, though, they were certainly both good actors.

"What the hell is that racket?" I heard Snyder call, storming out of his office and shoving past me to make his way down the stairs. I didn't wait to see what happened next, it was my turn for action.

I rushed to Snyder's office, the door left halfway open. I made my way inside and immediately began searching. Jones figured the keys would either be in a drawer or in some sort of key box. He was right. There was a clear box fixed to the wall with keys upon keys hanging inside. I tried to open it, but the box was locked. Damn. I looked wildly around the room, searching for anything I could use to pick the lock, but there was nothing.

Except for Snyder's master key, sitting forgotten on his desk.

Damn fool. I grabbed the key and opened the box, searching for the key to our room and then the key to the front door. When I had found them, I stuffed them in my pocket. I looked back at the box and frowned. He was certainly gonna notice some keys were missing. I quickly looked for any doubles of keys that I could hang in their place, and luckily found a few. It wasn't the best, but Snyder wouldn't notice unless he was looking for a mishap. I quickly locked the box and put the key back on the desk, exiting the office.

When I returned to the top of the stairs, I was horrified at the sight I saw. Crutchie and Jones were both pinned to the floor by some of Snyder's men, Snyder glaring over them.

"Take them upstairs," Snyder commanded, watching with what I could only describe as glee on his face as his men hauled the two of them to their feet and started shoving them up the stairs. I stepped out of the way, a look of terror on my face. As Crutchie passed me, he shot me a quick grin, as if to say everything would be alright.

The plan had worked so far, but it didn't feel like a victory.

* * *

I was relieved to come back to the room and find both Crutchie and Jones already there, lying in their own beds and looking, to be honest, pretty terrible.

"Hiya, Jack," Crutchie said when he heard me enter the room, straining to turn and look at me.

"You look like hell," I noted, feeling a pit in my stomach.

Crutchie shrugged. "Ain't nothing new there," he reminded me. "Did you get them?"

I patted my pocket. "Piece of cake," I said, trying to sound confident.

"Yeah, well, you had the easy part," Jones added, slowly sitting up in his bed and giving me his signature scowl.

"You didn't have to help, you know," I pointed out to him.

Jones shrugged. "You two weren't gonna make it on your own," he said. "Just promise me one thing, alright?" His scowl had dropped, replaced by something softer, almost pleading.

My eyes fell, suddenly feeling guilty. "Yeah, what is it?" I asked.

"Just don't forget about me and the rest of us in here when you get out," he said. "Please?"

The room was silent for a moment as I considered his words. I didn't know this kid, didn't even like him that much. And I knew he didn't like the pair of us. But he had helped us. Without him, I'd probably still be trying to think up some dumb plan to escape, one that might not even work. I suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for him. Half of me wanted to ask him to come with us, but I think the more selfish side of me won out, and I didn't say anything.

"Sure thing, Jones," I promised him. "We'll get this place shut down before you know it."

If only I felt as confident as I sounded.

* * *

The rest of the day dragged on, but eventually nighttime came. All the boys were sleeping when Crutchie and I got out of bed, doing our best to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake anyone. It was hard, though. Crutchie wasn't exactly the stealthiest, and even I wasn't in grand shape to sneak around like I normally do. But we weren't gonna give up. Not now that we've gotten this far.

We had to be careful to watch for any of Snyder's goons that might be strolling the halls. We made it all the way to the stairs with no trouble, but once we arrived at the top of the stairwell Crutchie stopped, looking down at them with dismay.

"It ain't gonna be easy, but we'll get down them," I whispered assuredly. "Just hold onto me and take it slow."

Crutchie nodded, using his free hand to hold onto me for support, and took the first step down. It was a long process, and many times we both stopped out of fear when Crutchie's crutch came down too loud on a step, or one of the stairs creaked. We kept looking over our shoulders, expecting Snyder to bust out of his office at any moment and catch us. But no one came.

Trouble didn't start until we reached the front door. I had just unlocked it when we heard the footsteps, coming down the hallway.

"Go, go, go," I hissed, shoving Crutchie out the door and following behind, quickly closing it as quietly as possible. I grabbed Crutchie's arm and took off as fast as I could with him behind me, struggling to keep up.

We made it to the bottom of the road before we heard the shouts. This was it. We were gonna get caught. Crutchie couldn't run, and there was no way we'd outwalk these guys.

So, I did the only thing I could do, no matter how much Crutchie was gonna hate it.

Luckily, he was much smaller than me, but lifting him up was still a struggle in my current state. He protested, trying to push me away, but I ignored him, lifting him over my shoulder and, crutch in hand, took off in a run.

It wasn't easy going. Crutchie wasn't heavy at all, but the position was awkward and my shoulders were sore from previous nights of punishment. I couldn't run as fast as normal, but I was at least moving faster than a walk. I could hear running footsteps and shouts behind me, but I didn't dare look back.

I rounded a corner, ducking down an alleyway and taking off in a sprint. If I could lose them in the maze of back alleys and dark roads we might be off the hook. My breath started coming out in heavy gasps, the exhaustion becoming evident in my tired muscles. It was obvious I wasn't in a state to be running like this, especially in the dark where I had to take sharper turns and make sudden stops due to lack of sight. I felt like I could collapse any minute, but I had to keep going. I wasn't going to allow us to get caught, not after all we went through.

I couldn't hear the shouts anymore, but I just kept running. They could be around any corner, waiting for us on any entryway or exit. My breaths were heavily labored now, and I was clearly slowing down on my speed. But I couldn't stop, not until I was certain we were safe.

"Jack, Jack I don't think they'se following us anymore," Crutchie gasped, his words coming out shaky from being jostled around on my shoulder.

I didn't stop, I couldn't. They could still be behind us, they could be closing in and ready to strike at any moment. It wasn't safe yet, not until we were far, far away.

"Jack, please," Crutchie begged. "You'se running yourself into the ground. I'm telling ya they ain't following us no more!"

I slowed, rounding a corner and finally coming to a stop. My breathing was heavy, coming out in quick gasps. I tried to catch my breath but my heart wouldn't stop pounding. I felt like it was gonna beat right out of my chest.

"Uh, Jack," Crutchie said, tugging on my sleeve. "Can you let me down?"

Realizing he was still thrown over my shoulder. I carefully lowered Crutchie to the ground, handing him his crutch.

"Thanks," he said. "You look terrible."

I laughed, but it came out sounding strangled. "Thanks kid," I replied, my breathing finally starting to feel easier.

"I realize we had to get away quick, so thanks," Crutchie started. "But if you pick me up like that again I won't be the only one limping."

We both laughed at that, a sense of relief coming over us. We were free, our plan had worked and we made it out alive. No more Refuge, no more beatings, no more Snyder.

I looked around; I wasn't familiar with the area we had ended up in, but it didn't matter where we were, as long as we were away from that place. It was dark, any light from a street lamp too far away to illuminate the world around us. Part of me wanted to be afraid, but I knew that whatever danger awaited us out in the world would be better than the place we left behind.

"Hey Jack," Crutchie started. "You wouldn't happen to know where we are, would ya?"

I shrugged. "Beats me," I admitted. "But we should probably find shelter somewhere."

"Where's we gonna find shelter out here?" Crutchie asked, looking around nervously.

"Hey, don't worry," I assured him, patting his shoulder. "We'll find something."

We walked a few blocks, trying to find even an awning we could take shelter under. We were both getting tired, Crutchie leaning more heavily on his crutch than normal and my legs felt ready to collapse underneath me. Eventually we stopped at a street corner, both feeling unable to go any further. I helped Crutchie sit down, taking a seat next to him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder for warmth. It was cold and damp, but it was at least freedom.

Crutchie was out in minutes, resting his head on my shoulder. I didn't sleep a wink, still feeling too anxious to let my guard down. But I would be okay. All that I cared about was that Crutchie got the rest he needed. I would just have to make do without for the time being.

I watched the sun rise over the towering buildings around us, signaling the start of a new day.

I wonder what it held in store for us.


	4. Chapter 4

The world was still. For one beautiful moment, everything felt at peace. Like nothing bad could ever happen to us. There was no Refuge, no Snyder, no failed strike, no pain or hunger or cold. Just a sunrise, bringing a new world to life.

Then it shattered in an instant.

Crutchie started awake, bolting upright with fear in his eyes, his breathing coming out in rapid pants. He was stammering to himself, a string of nonsense that didn't make sense to me, but I was able to get the gist. I was all too well acquainted with the nightmares.

"Crutchie, calm down, it's alright," I tried to say in an assuring voice. "We ain't there no more, we'se safe."

I could tell by the look on his face he was still seeing whatever images had flashed in his mind during his sleep. I gently pulled him closer, rubbing his shoulder in what I hoped was a soothing manner. "You'se okay, it ain't real. It ain't real."

This went on for a few minutes before Crutchie finally started to calm down, his breathing growing steadier and the tremors that had taken over his body beginning to subside. But I didn't let go of him, not until I was certain he was out of that dark place.

"You with me, kid?" I asked, smiling down at him encouragingly.

"Yeah, I'm with ya," Crutchie answered, his voice still a little shaky. He sat up straighter and I released him, allowing him to have some space. He was still shaking a bit, but not nearly as bad as he was a few moments ago.

"Nightmare?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

"Yeah, but it ain't nothing I can't handle," Crutchie answered, turning to me and giving me one of his signature smiles. I couldn't help but wonder just how genuine those things were from him.

"Yeah, you'se tough as nails, ain't ya?" I said, ruffling his hair.

Crutchie batted my hand away, making a sorry attempt to fix his unruly hair. It didn't do any good. "Did you get any sleep?" he asked, eyeing me a bit more seriously now.

"Loads," I lied, doing my best to bite back a yawn that threatened to escape. I couldn't let him see how exhausted I was. And there was no way I was getting rest out here, not while we were still on the streets, where there could be danger at any corner. No, I had to be strong, just long enough for us to find somewhere safe to hide. No doubt Snyder would be out looking for us.

"Jack, what are we gonna do now?" Crutchie asked, slumping against the wall we had been leaning on. "We can't go to the Lodging House. That'd be the first place they'd look for us. We ain't got nowhere else to go."

"I know, I know," I said. "We could try Davey's place, but I'm afraid they'd check there too. And we can't go getting Davey's family in trouble on account of us."

"So where else is there?" Crutchie asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

"We'll go to Medda," I said. "They can't possibly know to look there. She'll know what to do."

"Are you sure, Jack? It'll be safe there?" Crutchie looked up at me, almost pleading.

"Course it will," I assured him. "Ain't no safer place in all of Manhattan."

Crutchie smiled. "Alright, whatever you say, Jack. Now let's get going before Snyder catches up to us."

We got to our feet and I realized just how in bad of a shape I was. My legs felt wobbly beneath me, and breathing was a chore. My chest still hurt unbelievably, and I was almost certain something was broken. Adrenaline was probably the only reason I was able to run carrying Crutchie last night, cause I sure as hell could barely imagine walking today.

Crutchie looked just as bad, wobbling for a moment when he first got up. I reached out my hand to help steady him, but he just shook his head and waved my hand away. "Just a little stiff from last night is all," he assured me, doing his best to stretch out his limbs and loosen up. I didn't buy it for a minute, but I wasn't in any mood to argue.

When we exited the alleyway, I saw that I recognized the place pretty well. We were a good long ways from the Refuge, but also nowhere near Medda's theatre. It was going to be a walk, but at least I knew where we were.

And so, we began our trek, getting nowhere real fast with our speed, or rather lack thereof. Luckily no one paid us too much mind, and we didn't run into any trouble along the way. But as we walked I couldn't help but wonder how many of these people knew about the strike, heard about our failure or read about it in the papers. God knows it was in the papes, selling by the hundreds. However, who was doing the selling, I couldn't be sure. But I seriously doubted it was any of the newsboys I knew. It was a hopeless thought, but I couldn't see any of them getting out of that mess without facing some sort of retribution.

We walked in silence, both of us too tired to attempt chit-chat I think. It was late in the summer and with each passing minute the world grew hotter. We weren't wearing much, undershirts with button-ups over top and the sleeves rolled up, and old slacks. At one point, we had to roll those up too when it felt the heat was getting unbearable. Normally we wouldn't be too bothered by the weather, but with our lack of food, and water especially over the past several days, even the smallest things took a toll on us.

It must have been a few hours before we reached the theatre, ducking into the alleyway behind it and finding the back door that Medda always left unlocked. However, when I went to open the door, I found that it wouldn't budge.

"Damn," I muttered, shaking the knob once more but to no success. "What's going on here? She never leaves this door locked."

"Maybe something happened to make her nervous to leave it open?" Crutchie suggested, looking at the door with dismay.

I shrugged, banging my fist on the door. "Medda?" I called, giving the door another loud bang. "Medda, ya in there?"

No response. I knocked a third time, banging louder. "Medda!" I shouted, starting to feel desperate. If she wasn't here, there would be nowhere for us to go. We weren't gonna last on our own much longer; I couldn't bear to make Crutchie spend another minute on the streets with nothing to eat and nowhere to rest.

From somewhere inside, footsteps could be heard. I stepped back, expecting Medda to open the door and smile down on us with that kind expression she always gave me. But it wasn't Medda who opened the door, instead it was some creaky old man with a stern look on his face.

"Where's Medda?" I demanded.

"Who are you, and what do you think you're doing here?" the old man questioned, giving me a hateful look. "No children allowed in the theatre."

"I'm here to see Medda, she knows me," I tried to explain. I didn't want to have to beg to this man, but at this point I was desperate enough to do just about anything.

"Go home, brat," the old man snapped, shooing me away with his hand. He tried to close the door behind him, but I wasn't having it. I wasn't going to be pushed around by this guy. I grabbed the door, holding it open. Luckily, I was a good deal stronger than the old man, even in my weakened state. He didn't stand a chance.

"Medda!" I cried. "Medda, please!"

The old man tried to shove the door closed, but could barely move the door an inch against me. "Get back, you sewer rat!" he shouted, rearing back his foot and kicking me hard in the shin. It hurt, but it wasn't anything that I hadn't felt before. I held my ground, holding the door open as far as I could and continuing to shout for Medda. She had to be there, she had to help us.

The old man was beginning to realize how pointless it was to try and fight against me. I had a firm grip on the door and it wasn't closing anytime soon. So, he did the only other thing he could probably think to do. It was so unexpected I didn't even react, but the old man suddenly roughly shoved me, using strength I didn't expect the old guy to have. If I had been in better shape it wouldn't have been an issue, but considering the pain in my chest from my poundings over the previous days, the action sent me sailing back, hurtling to the ground.

"Jack!" Crutchie cried, kneeling down beside me to check if I were okay. The wind had been knocked out of me, and I felt dizzy and disoriented from the sudden movement, but I was alright.

"And stay out!" the man barked, ready to slam the door behind him.

Just then, a familiar voice from inside called, "What on earth is all that racket out there?"

"Medda," I breathed, relief washing over me as the face of my friend poked itself outside. She was dressed in a violet dressing gown, her hair wrapped up and her makeup only half done. She must have been in the middle of getting ready for an afternoon show, that's why she hadn't come to the door.

"Now do my eyes deceive me or is that Jack Kelly lying on my back door?" she asked, a broad grin spreading across her face.

"Medda!" I shot up, unable to stop myself from running to her, crashing into a hug. I could feel her laughing, holding me close to her. I don't know if it was from all the pent-up stress and sudden relief, but I was laughing too.

"What on earth are you two doing here?" Medda asked pulling away and holding me at shoulder length distance. She looked between Crutchie and I, her eyes finally falling back on me as she reached out her hand to touch my face. I hadn't realized, but at some point, tears had welled in my eyes and were now starting to spill down my face. I really was messed up.

I quickly pulled away, wiping at my eyes to remove any evidence of the tears, but I'm sure my face was already red by now. Crutchie was going to see, and that was the last thing I wanted.

"We need a place to stay," I explained, my voice noticeably cracking. Damn, I sounded pathetic.

"Well why didn't you say so?" Medda asked, stepping back and holding the door open for us. "Come in, come in!"

We both made our way inside, me giving a smirk to the old man as I passed him. He looked sour, but I could care less. What was Medda doing hiring old angry men like him, anyways?

We were ushered inside, where Medda led us to the green room, having us immediately sit down. "You two look awful," she noted, sitting down on the couch across from us.

"Well, that tends to happen when you just escaped the Refuge," I pointed out, not unkindly.

Medda's face fell. "So, that's where you've been," she said quietly, but from her tone I guessed she had already figured that were the case.

"Medda," I started, not wanting to ask the question, but needing to know the answer anyways. "What happened to the other boys?"

"If they didn't go with you, the only other consideration is that they skipped town," Medda explained. "I haven't seen a single one of those buys that I recognize since that day."

"What exactly happened, anyways?" Crutchie asked, his voice low, probably afraid to know the answer.

Medda looked at me. "You haven't told him?" she asked.

I looked down, not wanting to meet either one of their eyes. I didn't want to talk about it, didn't want to relive it. Crutchie deserved to know, but I just didn't have the heart to be the one to deliver the news.

Medda probably sensed this, because she didn't press me any further. "It wasn't a good day, Crutchie," she explained. "For anyone."

It was clear on his face that Crutchie wanted to know more, but like Medda, he didn't press the matter. I knew he would ask me about it later, and when he did I needed to be ready to tell him the truth.

The conversation turned to our current sorry state, and Medda insisted on making us both something to eat. We gratefully accepted, being treated to our first real meal in, for me what was only a few days, but for Crutchie what was well over a week. Neither of us could really eat much, and Medda wouldn't let us anyways out of fear we'd make ourselves sick. The water was plentiful, though, and the pounding in my head and chest felt like they could finally subside a little.

There wasn't much time before Medda's show, and she still had to finish getting ready. It was obvious we were both exhausted, so Medda led us to her room upstairs and, very adamantly, insisted we both get some rest. I had to admit, I was ready for a good nap. Even Crutchie looked ready to fall over, and he had gotten at least a few hours' sleep the night before. Clearly, it hadn't been very restful.

Her bed was large enough for the both of us, and almost as soon as my head hit the pillow I was out. When I woke, Crutchie was curled up beside me, still fast asleep, and the light coming in from the window was dimmer, as if it were late in the afternoon. I was content to lie there, reveling in the feeling of safety that had washed over me the second I stepped into Medda's theatre. I knew that as long as we were here, nothing could harm us. No Snyder could get to us.

But just how long could we hide in this place?

We couldn't stay forever. We had to find the others, make sure they were all okay. We still had to finish what we started, even if we had a . . . setback. I made a promise to that kid, Jones, that we would bust him and the rest of those kids out of the Refuge. I wasn't about to go back on my word. And in doing so, we would have to put ourselves into danger again. We could be safe today, but tomorrow the fight would begin again.

I wasn't sure that I was ready for that.

Crutchie finally woke up, sitting up and rubbing his eyes groggily. "What time is it?" he asked, still sounding half asleep.

"Bout six in the afternoon," I assumed. "We slept the day away."

Crutchie groaned. "Feels like I could still sleep five more hours," he admitted, stretching out his arms. "How'd you sleep?"

"Better than I have the past several nights," I answered. "How's about you?"

"Eh, I'se had worse nights," he responded, his smile returning.

"Well enjoy it while you can, cause it ain't gonna last much longer," I warned him. "We'se still got lots to do, and I don't think Medda can keep us here for very long."

"Where do you think everyone else has been sleeping?" Crutchie asked, worry tinting the edges of his face.

"I don't know, but we'se gonna find out," I said. "And by the time this is over, we'se gonna make sure everyone's got a safe place to rest their head every night, you mark my words."

Crutchie smiled, but it only lingered for a moment before falling again. "Jack," he asked, his voice gone quiet. "What happened?"

Here it was, the question I absolutely did not want to answer but couldn't put off any longer. I looked down at the bed sheets, not wanting to meet Crutchie's eyes. I didn't want to face him, not with the news I was about to give.

"It was just like the time you was taken," I began, absentmindedly ruffling the sheets between my hands. "But it was worse, so much worse. They didn't take any kids away, not that I saw. They just beat them senselessly into the ground. I'se the only one they wanted to take, thankfully. But Crutchie, if you had seen it. It wasn't just a few cops and more of Weasel's thugs, no. There was hundreds of them. They had to have known we was gonna take a stand that day. They was prepared. It wasn't just newsies that day, it was kids from all over, boys and girls, and of every age. But that made no difference to them. After the first time, I promised I wouldn't let something like that happen again. But it did, and this time on a larger scale."

I took a breath, steadying myself before continuing. "I talked to Pulitzer and he just . . . smiled. Like he knew exactly what was gonna happen to us. That snake knew what we was gonna do and made sure we wouldn't get away with it. Kids, Crutchie! There was kids there! Les, he was on the ground . . . I didn't see what happened to him, but he got hurt pretty bad."

I stopped, I had to breathe. I hated reliving those moments, seeing the hurt and scared look on those kids faces as cops descended upon us. I shook my head, as if I could shake the memory away. But it was no use, I couldn't get the images out of my head. They haunted me, both in my sleep and in waking.

"Pulitzer, he said something to me," I continued, catching my breath. "He said 'If you want a war, you better be prepared to die for it'. But I wasn't, and I still ain't. Instead I just let retribution fall on every one of those kids. I'm a failure, Crutchie. And that don't just hurt me, it hurt us all."

Crutchie was silent for a while, I think he was trying to process everything I had just said. When he finally looked up at me, there was a smile spread across his face.

"You mean that's it?" he asked. "We just got soaked again? Hell, we survived it once, didn't we? Who's to say we can't survive it again?"

I shook my head, incredulous. "Crutchie it ain't that simple—" I started.

"Yes, it is," he interrupted. "Look, what happened was terrible. We got crushed again and it sounds like it was pretty bad, too. But that didn't stop you last time so it don't have to stop you again. So, everyone's spirits might be broken, we'll just have to mend them. I believe in you, Jack. I believe in what we was doing and I bet you so do the rest of those kids. We'se hit a setback, sure, but it don't have to stop us forever. We just has to regroup and try again. Revolutions ain't won in a day, you know. So, what do you say, Jack?"

I stared at him for a moment, letting his words wash over me. It seemed so hopeless, so impossible after what happened. But Crutchie was right. We may have been beaten, but they can't stop us forever. We'd just keep trying and trying until we finally won. No Pulitzer or Snyder were gonna keep us from the prize.

We could do this.

I smiled back at Crutchie. "I say we fight us a war."


	5. Chapter 5

Medda fed us well that night, after which she inspected our injuries and did as best she could to help us. Medda insisted on calling for a doctor, but both Crutchie and I refused. We couldn't risk being caught; we were both practically fugitives now. Who knows how many people Snyder could be buddies with. When I explained this to Medda she seemed to think I was worrying too much, but she didn't argue the point, which I was grateful for.

Nighttime came, and Medda prepared the two of us a place to sleep in her dressing room. It smelled awful in there, like hairspray and powder, but it was a major step up from where we had come from, and we both accepted the quarters with zero complaints.

Extra pillows and blankets had been given to us, making a more comfortable spot on the floor. Medda offered us her bed for the night, but neither of us would hear it. The floor would be fine, at least for me it was. I admit, I was worried about Crutchie, but he assured me that it wasn't a problem, that he had slept in worse places lately and not to worry. I did my best to listen to him.

I wasn't really tired, but I laid down to sleep, anyways. Crutchie was close beside me, not exactly having a lot of room to stretch out on the small dressing room floor. It was cramped, but it would do. I almost thought he had even managed to fall asleep, before he turned over to face me.

"Jack?" he asked. "You awake?"

"Yeah, what's up, kid?" I asked, rolling over to face him as well.

"I was just thinking," he started, looking down at the floor. "What if the others are angry with us? What if they don't want to see us no more?"

I gaped back at him. "Why on earth would you think something like that?" I asked, surprised by his question.

"Cause we lost the strike," Crutchie answered. "I'se worried they'se gonna put the blame on you, and I ain't letting no one put you down alone."

"If they blame me, they blame me," I said. "Ain't nothing we can do about it. But don't go out of your way to make them blame you too. You had nothing to do with it. If anyone deserves to take the blame for this mess it's me, you understand?"

Crutchie shook his head. "You don't have to face this alone, you know," he told me. "I'se gonna be by your side no matter what."

I smiled, reaching out to ruffle his hair. "Thanks, kid," I said. "But we don't have to worry about that. We'll find the others no problem and everything will be fixed. We'll be a family again."

Crutchie grinned. "You'se right," he agreed. "A family again."

"Now get some sleep," I told him. "We'se got a big day tomorrow."

Crutchie nodded, closing his eyes and falling into what I hoped would be a blissful sleep. It didn't take me long to do the same, drifting off out of consciousness. Luckily, I was still too tired to be plagued by any dreams that night. I could only imagine how horrific they would be.

* * *

Medda woke us the next morning, letting us know it was half passed ten and that she had prepared us some breakfast. We were both grateful to her and accepted the warm breakfast by shoveling as much into our mouths as we could without Medda yelling at us for eating too quickly. Man, it was good to have proper meals again.

"So, boys," Medda began, taking a sip from her cup of coffee. "What are your plans for the day?"

I looked at her a little blankly, not sure myself what to do next. I was never good at planning things, usually taking life as it comes and thinking things up on the fly. That's what I liked so much about Davey, he always had a plan, always knew what steps to take next and how to execute them.

Davey . . .

I thought to myself. We needed to find the others, to see if they were okay and let them know that we were alive. We needed to regroup, to start things up again and let Pulitzer and Snyder know that they couldn't beat us down, no matter how hard they tried. But if Snyder's men were out looking for us, they'd think to check on where the other boys were located, expecting us to go find them. It wasn't safe to regroup just yet, not until things have cooled down. Crutchie and I needed to lie low, at least for a few days.

"I want to find the others," I began to explain. "But it ain't safe, not yet. How long do you think we should wait before Snyder stops looking for us?"

Medda gave me a hard look. "I don't know, kid," she started. "That man could search for you for ages before growing tired of the chase. I think the real question is, would he be looking for you two on his own, or would he have others in his service."

"He don't have too many people working at the Refuge," Crutchie put in. "He don't really have the men to spare on a couple of kids, do he?"

"And that's the rub," Medda said. "That place only has so many employees working there, unless he were to get the police involved he doesn't have the manpower to search for you."

"But that ain't unlikely," I added. "What if he did get the police involved?"

"Then you'd have reason for concern," Medda agreed. "Boys, if you ask me, I think it's best you don't go looking for your friends just yet. Give things a few days to calm down. Rest, heal, and then regroup once the air is clear."

I nodded in agreement. "It won't do nobody no good if we just get caught again."

"Do we really have the time to waste, though?" Crutchie asked. "What about those kids in the Refuge? We promised 'em we'd get them out."

"And we will," I told him. "But we'se gotta be smart about this. Unless we want yet another repeat of what happened the past two times, we gotta make a new plan of attack. Now I ain't the best at this sort of thing, and unless you'se got a plan I ain't heard about yet, we'se gonna need someone with bigger brains than us. But we can't go to them just yet, not until things settled down."

"And who do you have in mind, Jack?" Crutchie asked, but I was sure he already knew.

I grinned. "Why, our pal Davey Jacobs of course."

Crutchie couldn't help but smile too. "If anyone knows what to do, it'll be him," he agreed.

"That's right. But for not only our safety, but his and his family's as well, we gotta give it a few days. Can you manage that?" I asked.

Crutchie thought about it for a moment, and then nodded. "Yeah, I thinks I can manage that."

"While you wait, you two are more than welcome to stay here," Medda said. "So long as you stay in the apartment or backstage," she added.

"And if there's anything we can do for you in the meantime, please let us know," I told her. It didn't seem right to me to be staying in her place, sleeping on her floor and eating her food without giving back some sort of proper payment.

"Now Jack," Medda began. "You know I'd do anything for the pair of you, so don't go worrying about any sort of work. You two need to focus on recovering. But if you feel up to it you're always welcome to work on some of those backdrops, but I don't want you to over-exert yourself, you understand?"

"Yes, miss Medda," I responded dutifully.

"Good," she said, smiling warmly at us.

Crutchie and I finished our breakfast, helping Medda clean up the dishes afterwards. When we were done, Medda showed us to the bathroom, instructing us to bathe. I let Crutchie go first, waiting outside the door while he washed up and Medda left to find a clean change of clothes for the both of us. When Medda returned after a few minutes, she handed me the clothes and headed back downstairs to the theatre. I waited outside the door patiently, sorting between the two outfits, picking out and finding which pairs of clothes would fit each of us better.

After a few moments, I heard a loud thud coming from inside the bathroom. "Crutchie?" I asked, knocking on the door. "You alright in there?"

"Peachy!" came his reply, though he sounded anything but; his voice was strained and his answer was too rushed to be natural.

"You didn't fall, did you?" I asked, a little teasing, but still worried.

He didn't immediately answer. "No . . ." he called, but I wasn't convinced.

"Do you need any help?" I called back, almost opening the door and coming in anyways.

"I'se fine!" he snapped, unconvincingly.

I huffed, unceremoniously opening the door and entering the bathroom. Crutchie was sitting on the floor, wrapped in a towel and holding his ankle. When he saw me, his eyes grew wide as he immediately pulled the towel more tightly around himself. "Geez, Jack, ever heard of privacy?"

"I needed to give you your clothes," I answered innocently, holding out the change of clothes to show him. I knelt down, setting down the pile of clothes next to him, looking curiously at where he was still holding onto his ankle. "Leg giving you trouble?" I asked knowingly.

"It ain't that bad," Crutchie answered, his voice a little less guarded now, and he was still rubbing his ankle as if it were sore.

"You didn't twist it, did you?" I asked, craning my neck to get a better look.

"Nah, I just slipped is all," he answered. "It's a little sore but it ain't nothing to worry about."

I gave him an unconvinced look, but didn't press the matter. "Whatever you say. Get changed, I gotta wash up too."

"Yeah, yeah," Crutchie responded, using the side of the tub to help pull himself up. I left the bathroom to give him some privacy, and a few minutes later he emerged out of the room, clothed and his wet hair sticking up at odd angles.

"Looking good, kid," I said, ruffling his hair. Crutchie batted my hand away, but smiled anyways.

I went into the bathroom and turned on the water, filling the tub with the warmest water I could. We didn't have much hot water in the Lodging House, so it was nice to take a hot bath for once. I was covered in a nice layer of grim and dirt and, unfortunately, blood, and getting a chance to finally wash it all away was one of the most refreshing feelings I can remember having ever.

I probably spent too much time in there, but it was hard not to get lost in my thoughts while soaking in the warm water. My first concern was what we were going to do for however many days it took for things to cool down. I knew it was necessary, but that didn't mean I liked it. The boredom was going to be unbearable. Sitting around and waiting while the other boys were out who knows where was a predicament I didn't like, but was stuck in nonetheless. My next concern was what we were going to do once things did cool down. My first thought was to go see Davey, but what if Crutchie was right? What if he was mad at me? What if all the boys were mad at me? What if they didn't trust me anymore? I wouldn't blame them, of course. But part of me, the more selfish part, didn't want that to happen. I didn't want to lose the closest thing I had to a family. But it might be inevitable.

Guess there was only one way to find out.

I got out of the bath, quickly drying off and getting dressed. When I came out of the room I found Crutchie sitting on the floor, still rubbing his ankle. I gave him a peculiar look, sitting down next to him. "You sure that leg of yours is okay?" I asked.

Crutchie just nudged my shoulder. "I told you it's fine," he said. "You sure took your sweet time in there."

"Hey, it's a hot bath, who wouldn't?" I shot back, almost laughing.

"Yeah, you'se right," Crutchie agreed. "Next time let me go last so I don't have to worry about rushing to let you in."

"Deal," I said. "Hey Crutchie, I got a question for ya."

"Yeah, Jack?" he asked, stopping his rubbing motion for a moment to look at me.

"You think Davey will be happy to see us?" I asked, scratching my head absentmindedly.

"Course he will," Crutchie said. "Why wouldn't he?"

"I don't know," I answered. "I just got this feeling that maybe, I don't know, maybe he won't want to see me or something."

Crutchie gave me a hard look. "That's stupid," he said. "Davey's gonna be so happy to see you, he won't know what to do with himself. Probably won't have anything to say for the first time ever, if you can imagine that."

I smiled. "Yeah, maybe," I agreed.

Another thought came to me; one that had been nagging at my mind but I hadn't dared to voice yet, because I was too afraid to think about it.

"What about . . . what about Katherine?" I asked quietly. "Do you think she'd still want to see me?"

Crutchie got quiet. "Why, do you think she won't want to or something?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "Last I saw her we was planning the final part of the strike. She had it all worked out, you should have seen it. We was gonna have all the kids in Manhattan and the surrounding areas rally together, so many that it shut the whole city down. But then things went south, and I didn't see her before Snyder caught up with me. Sure, I spoke with her father—"

"Wait, her father?" Crutchie asked, confused.

"Oh, right, Crutchie you wouldn't believe this, but Katherine's father is Pulitzer," I answered, having to hold back a nervous laugh.

Crutchie stared at me for a moment, breaking out into laughter. "You'se joking, right?" he asked, barely able to control himself.

"I ain't joking," I said as seriously as I could. "I didn't want to believe it either when I first found out."

"Her father," Crutchie said, incredulous. "What the hell, Jack? You can't be with a girl whose father practically wants you dead!"

"I know, I know," I said, shooing away his statement. "And that's what I'se worried about. That, and what if Katherine starts seeing things his way? What if he persuades her to believe we'se the bad guys in this situation? What will I do then?"

"Simple, stay away from her!" Crutchie answered without a second thought. "Kick her to the curb like yesterday's pape! You can't be with the daughter of Joseph Pulitzer. You just can't!"

I didn't respond to that. I didn't want to. I knew that what he was saying was true, but . . . but part of me didn't want to see that side of the argument.

I started to respond, but stopped myself. I couldn't form an argument, not one that I wanted to voice, anyways.

Crutchie seemed to sense that something was off. "You . . . you really like this Katherine, don't you?" he asked quietly.

I nodded. "I really do, Crutchie. And . . . and I think she really liked me too."

Crutchie sighed. "Well, in that case, you better fight for her. Whatever it takes."

I blinked. "You mean you ain't mad about it?" I asked. "About me being interested in Pulitzer's daughter?"

Crutchie laughed. "Of course, I'm mad," he answered. "But what I think don't matter. What matters is you do what makes you happy. It ain't about me, or no one else. It's about the pair of you and what you want."

I smiled. "Thanks, Crutchie," I said, putting my arm him and patting his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah, don't get sappy on me," he said, pushing my hand away playfully.

I nudged him back, ruffling his hair again. Things were looking dim, but I was glad that at least through all of this I wasn't alone. If I had to have anyone with me through this mess, I was glad it was Crutchie.

If only it meant we hadn't gone through that nightmare of the Refuge.

* * *

Nighttime came by slowly, the day dragging on in relative quiet and horrible waiting. I eventually went to go work on backdrops for Medda, needing something to keep my mind occupied. When it finally came time for bed, I couldn't be any happier. That is, until sleep actually hit.

I was back there, back in that place. It seemed so real, so terrifyingly real. Snyder was taunting me, telling me about all of my failures and shortcomings. No one would ever follow me again. No one would care what happened to me if I got hurt, or worse. One day everyone would leave. Crutchie, Davey, Medda, Katherine, they would all turn their backs on me someday. And there was nothing I could do about it. I would die alone, unremembered, unloved.

I woke to a start, gasping for air and clawing at the darkness before me. Something was grabbing onto me, shaking me, but I couldn't discern what it was. I thought I heard someone calling my name, but all I could hear clearly was Snyder's voice in my head, still taunting me.

Eventually, the world came back into view, and I was once again in Medda's theatre, sleeping on her dressing room floor. Crutchie was beside me, shaking me and calling my name. Everything finally fell into place.

"I'se awake, you can stop now," I grumbled, lightly pushing Crutchie off of me.

"It's about time," Crutchie said. "I was calling you for ages." His voice grew quiet. "Nightmare?" he asked.

I nodded. "But nothing I can't handle," I said, mimicking his words from a couple nights prior, adding a smile for extra proof. Crutchie, however, didn't look convinced.

"Was it of the Refuge?" he asked, his tone serious.

I nodded. "Yeah," I answered. "But like I said, it ain't nothing. Did I wake you?"

"Yeah, you were thrashing everywhere, it was impossible not to wake up," Crutchie complained, pretending to be mad with me. "What was the dream about?"

I shook my head. "I'd rather not relive it," I admitted.

Crutchie nodded in understanding. "Whatever it was, it ain't real," he assured me. "We'se out of that place. Things are gonna get better now, just you wait."

I nodded. "Yeah, you'se right," I agreed. "Things will get better from here."

Crutchie smiled, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Now get some sleep," he told me. I nodded in agreement, lying back down and trying to get comfortable.

"Hey Crutchie," I said, looking over at him.

"Yeah?" he asked, turning on his side to face me.

"We'll be alright, yeah?" I asked, wanting some sort of reassurance I couldn't find from within.

Crutchie nodded without a second thought. "Yeah, we'se gonna be alright," he said with certainty.

I smiled. I hoped more than anything his words were true.


End file.
